


Wake Up Your Sleepy Soul

by nowhiteflaguponmydoor



Series: The Soft!Trap AU [3]
Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Possibly Unrequited Love, Soft Trap, and they were ROOMMATES, oh my god they were roommates, they're in residency
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 12:00:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18073025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nowhiteflaguponmydoor/pseuds/nowhiteflaguponmydoor
Summary: Trapper loves Hawkeye. Hawkeye loves Trapper. Neither of them know, but that's about to change with a sleepy kiss.





	Wake Up Your Sleepy Soul

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pr0serpina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pr0serpina/gifts).



> For Pina, who encouraged me to write Piercintyre, specifically with Soft!Trap. 
> 
> Shoutout to the Swamp Rats for their cheerleading and input. Y'all are lovely <3
> 
> Title from "Take Up Your Spade" by Sara Watkins

It’s been a hellacious 48 hours, and John is glad to finally be leaving the hospital and heading home.

Home is a shared apartment with Hawkeye. Hawkeye, his best friend. Hawkeye, who is so talented, so funny, and so beautiful.  

Hawkeye, who John has accidentally fallen in love with.

It’s got to be one of the stupidest things he’s ever done, and that’s saying something. He didn’t mean for this to happen. He was taken with Hawkeye from day one, when they were just nervous interns. They both have an affinity for jokes, drinking, flirting, and surgery, and they became fast friends. They’ve lived together now for two years, and John realized about six months ago that he’s in love with his best friend and roommate.

Despite the pain in his gut that this tends to give him, he’s glad to be going home. Hawkeye is in the same boat he’s in, had the same awful shift that didn’t seem like it’d ever end. They walk to the T station in quiet solidarity, and John has to take a deep breath whenever Hawkeye brushes his shoulder.

(Hawk is so tactile that sometimes John thinks he’s gonna spontaneously combust.)

Luckily, this time of night, there aren’t as many people on the train, and they’re able to sit down and rest their aching bones for the commute home. Hawkeye rests his head on John’s shoulder. “Hey, don’t fall asleep on me,” he grumbles. But he doesn’t push him away.

“Just wake me up when we get to our station,” Hawk replies.

John shakes his head. “Uh-uh, pal. Last time you fell asleep on the train, I had to damn near carry you home. And after the shitshow we just had, I don’t think I’ve got it in me tonight.”

Hawkeye mumbles a half-hearted joke about _having something in me._ (That’s another thing...Hawkeye flirts with everybody, and on someone else it might come off as creepy, but on Hawk, it’s endearing. So he’s used to the jokes, but they still make his chest tight, still make him wish they weren’t just flirty jokes, just Hawkeye being Hawkeye.) John rolls his eyes and elbows him gently. “C’mon, Hawk, we aren’t that far from home. Stay awake, and then you can crash the moment we’re through the front door. I’m just as tired as you, pal, c’mon, we can make it.”

Hawkeye sighs and lifts his head from John’s shoulder and pulls out his phone to try and keep himself occupied. John tries not to look too closely at what it is he’s doing...seeing Hawk mess around on dating apps tends to make his throat feel like he’s got a lump in it. Instead, he tries to go over the finer details of the surgeries in his head. There’d been a bad car accident involving a car full of teenagers not wearing their seatbelts; luckily the patients he and Hawk had worked on had made it through surgery, but the kids were pretty badly hurt. John knows he shouldn’t be as bothered as he is, but they’re just a bunch of stupid kids, and they damn near lost their lives. Two years into residency, and stuff still sneaks up and pokes at his heart. He shakes his head to clear the thoughts away; he’s too tired for this right now.

“You alright, Trap?” Hawk asks, looking up at him.

“Yeah, ‘m fine,” John says, yawning. “Glad we’ve got two days off.”

Hawkeye nods, and hesitates, like he maybe wants to pursue his questioning, before he says,. “You and me both, pal.”

They get to their station and make the mercifully short trek to their apartment. Hawk leans against John as he unlocks the door and they stumble inside, throwing their bags down and kicking off their shoes. John pitches himself onto the couch. He’s in that awful state of tired where he can barely stand but doesn’t know if he can sleep right away.

Hawkeye has gone to the kitchen, and is bustling around making God knows what. John closes his eyes and leans his head against the back of the couch, listening to Hawk knock around. As much as he was about to fall asleep on the train, now it seems that he’s gotten a second wind.

John drifts for several minutes, not asleep but not completely awake either, lost in his thoughts about how tired he is, and how much he loves Hawk’s cooking, when he hears Hawk come out of the kitchen and over to the couch. “Hey Trap,” he says quietly, in a voice that John can tell even with his eyes closed that he’s smiling.

John opens his eyes and peers up at Hawkeye, who is holding a mug out to him. “I made you some hot chocolate,” he says. “It’s got a hint of Bailey’s in it, so I guess it’s technically a nightcap.”

John stares up at him dumbly for a moment. Hawk takes such good care of him.

 “Thanks,” he says, leaning forward to take the mug from Hawkeye. As he does, he turns his head and presses a kiss to the inside of Hawkeye’s wrist. Hawkeye chuckles softly, and-- _wait._

_Oh, shit._

John pulls back quickly, and sets the mug down on the coffee table. “Sorry, Hawk, I dunno what’s gotten into me...I’m--I’m tired, and, and...y’know what, I better go to bed. G’night.”

He gets up off the couch and practically runs past Hawkeye, who calls out “wait, Trapper--” as John slams the door to his bedroom shut, and leans against it.

_What the fuck did I just do? What’s gonna happen if he figures out I...I love him….aw, hell._

John slides down against his bedroom door and puts his head in his hands. He tries to take a couple of deep breaths, but his heart is pounding and he’s not at all sure he’s not having a heart attack.

He’s trying hard to pull himself together when there’s a gentle knock on the other side of the door. “Trap? Listen, is everything okay? You didn’t even touch your hot chocolate, and...listen, I don’t care if you just sort of sleep kissed my wrist, okay? You know I’m a damn octopus when I’m drunk, and...I can hear you hyperventilating, Trap, please open the door.”

And here’s the thing: he can’t say no to Hawkeye, not when he says please, not when there’s a tinge of worry in his voice John’s rarely heard before.

He sniffs, and no he was not crying, he _wasn’t_. He takes a lungful of air and stands, opening the door.

Hawk is standing there with the abandoned hot chocolate, lit by the hall light, looking lost. “Hey, pal, I don’t know why you’re so spooked, but I promise, it’s okay. Look, I’ll just leave this here for you,”--he steps into John’s room just enough to put the mug on the edge of his dresser--”and get out of your way, if you want. But it’s okay, really, I promise.”

John takes a step closer to him. Later, he’ll wonder what the fuck he was thinking, this just spilling out of him, but he’s exhausted and so in love with Hawkeye Pierce that it hurts. 

“It’s not okay,” he says.

Hawk’s eyebrows draw together. “What? Trap, of course it is, what are you talking about--”

“It’snotokaybecause...because...I love ya, Hawk...and what I really wanna do...is this.” He steps forward and presses a brief, gentle kiss to Hawkeye’s lips.

Hawk’s mouth had dropped open at the admission, but John doesn’t try anything cocky. He just presses his lips to Hawkeye’s and then pulls back. Hawk stands there, stunned, and quite frankly, so is John. This is way too much for late at night with no sleep.

“Look, I...I’ll understand if you wanna get a new roommate,” John says. “I just...I couldn’t keep it inside anymore, ya know? You’re...you’re the best friend I ever had, Hawk. I don’t expect nothin’ from ya, I just...I needed ya to know.”

Hawk is still standing speechless, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Look, I’ll...I’ll go. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to spring this on ya, I swear these shifts have me losin’ my damn mind, and...I’ll go crash with Margaret…” He turns away from Hawk, and fumbles his way over to the dresser, he can pack a bag, stay a few days with Margaret until he finds a new place to live. He tries to focus on the task directly at hand, and not on the fact that he’s probably just ruined his and Hawk’s friendship, and-

“Trap. Trapper, I…”

He takes a deep breath. Okay, he may be about to cry now. Fuck. “No, Hawk, it’s alright, I don’t mind, I’m--I’m real sorry for doin’ that, but I’m gonna go, don’t worry, and --”

 He doesn’t see Hawkeye move further into the room, but the next thing he knows there’s a pair of hands on his shoulders, turning him to face Hawkeye. He can see him, barely, by the light of the moon and the hall light spilling into the bedroom. He breaks off what he was saying, not sure what Hawk’s about to say or do.

 “Stop trying to pack and leave. This is your apartment, too.”

 He can’t bring himself to respond to that.

“Trap, you’re. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, alright? I’m so glad I met you.”

“Hawk, don’t. You don’t have to let me down gently. Look, just...we’ve had a long coupla’ days, alright? Let’s just...go to bed and forget this happened? Please?”

He back away but Hawkeye moves towards him, and if John’s mouth was dry before, it’s a desert now.

“John. Please, listen to me.”

That gets his attention, and he looks up at Hawkeye.

“Listen, let me finish. You’re my best friend. I didn’t...I didn’t know you felt that away, _Jesus,_ Trap, I didn’t even know for sure that you’re into guys! And I...I just...I can’t believe that you did that--”

John tries to interrupt him, but Hawk steps even closer into his space and presses his index finger to John’s mouth. “--uh-uh, let me finish. I can’t believe you did that, because I can’t believe there’s a chance that you feel the same way I do.”

John blinks. “Wait. What?” 

Hawkeye laughs, eyes crinkling, and John could swear they look wet, but it’s probably just the dim light. “Trap, I love you, too.” 

“R-really?”

Hawk smiles, and reaches up to cup John’s face in his hands. “Yes. I love you, John Francis Xavier McIntyre. I love your curly hair, I love your stupid grin, I love watching you with kids on peds rotations. I love how smart you are, and how you encourage my jokes and antics. I just love you, Trapper. I didn’t think I’d ever get to tell you, or that you’d feel the same way, but...I do.”

Alright, John’s definitely crying now. Hawk brushes the tears away with his thumbs, and then leans in and kisses him.

This time, John’s the one who freezes, but it’s just for a moment, and then he’s kissing back, pouring all of his feelings, all of his _love_ for Hawkeye into it. It’s sweet, and slow, and John thinks he just might have died and gone to heaven, _because Hawkeye Pierce is kissing him_.  

They finally break apart, and John bites his lip. “I love ya, Hawk,” he says shyly. “Benjamin Franklin Pierce, I think I’ve loved ya since I first laid eyes on ya. I didn’t realize it for a long time, but...you’re so beautiful, Hawk. Inside and out. And damn, you’re a gifted surgeon, but you’re also a helluva good doctor. And you make everybody laugh, and keep me laughin’, even when I just feel like it’s all gone to shit....I look up and there you are, slingin’ an arm around my shoulders and gettin’ me through the rough ones. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, too, Hawk. And I...god, Hawk. I never imagined tellin’ ya this, but…” He looks down, shy. “I sure am glad I did.”

Hawk pulls him into his arms and John buries his head in Hawkeye’s neck. He sniffs, and Hawkeye sways them back and forth. “It’s okay. Don’t cry, Trap, it’s alright.”

He nods. “Can’t help it, Hawk. I...this isn’t what I ever pictured.”

“Me neither, Trap. Look. Let’s, uh. I was gonna say let’s go to bed, but I don’t mean it as a proposition. I mean, well, what I mean is…” John has to stifle a laugh. Now Hawk’s the one all flustered.

He pulls away from Hawk’s shoulder but doesn’t leave his arms. “Hawk...do ya maybe wanna sleep in here tonight?” 

Hawk runs a hand up his back, and John shivers. “ _Yes._ Boy, do I ever.”

(They’ve shared a bed a few times, when snowstorms knocked out the power and they needed warmth. Hawk’s crawled into his bed after a bad night, needing to feel someone else with him when he’s stuck in his head, and after Carlye had broken up with. John never imagined anything like _this.)_

They get ready for bed, and they both put pajamas on. John pulls back the covers for Hawkeye to slide in, once he’s in bed, he pulls John close and runs his fingers through his curls. John is embarrassed at the sound he makes, but Hawk just chuckles and kisses his forehead. “Go to sleep,” he says. “I’ll still be here tomorrow, I promise. And you better be here when I wake up, too, I don’t wanna have to go looking for you at Margaret’s.”

John sighs and nods. “‘Kay,” he says, already relaxing against Hawkeye. He presses a kiss to Hawkeye’s nose before leaning in and kissing him one more time, just because he can. He can have this. “Goodnight, Hawk,” he murmurs.  

Hawkeye brushes his nose against John’s. “‘Night, Trap,” he says.

It’s the best night’s sleep either of them have had since they started their residencies.

 


End file.
